


Personal Worth

by Butterballs



Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterballs/pseuds/Butterballs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard doesn't mean to become involved with Aidan but it kind of happens anyway, and when it all goes to shit, Dean is there to pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Richard

The thing about Richard was that he had two problems that had plagued his relationships ever since he could remember: he was rubbish at guessing – his intuition was practically nonexistent – and he was non-confrontational to a fault. He didn’t understand why people just didn’t _talk_ about these things, but at the same time, he didn’t talk either. How could he, if he didn’t know that there were issues to discuss? Maybe that was why he was nearing forty and chronically single, with no immediate plans to change that status. Apparently all of his partners expected him to be both psychic _and_ a master orator.

When he left for Wellington Richard dearly hoped that the filming, promotion and unavoidable friendship-forming process would be uncomplicated. Working with fourteen or so other guys _should_ be straightforward, but he’d been surprised before, so his guard was firmly raised. 

Meeting his new colleagues was hell on his blood pressure but somehow Richard made it through unscathed. They were all lovely people, of course. Friendly, talented and flawlessly cast. One of them, however, stood out above the rest. His name was Aidan and he was an Irish, wild-haired, chatty, fucking _gorgeous_ temptation. 

The first time they met he didn’t shake Richard’s hand, he squeezed it in both of his, looked directly into Richard’s eyes and smiled with a special sort of significance. A more intuitive person might have taken it as a come-on. All it did was give Richard a pounding headache. All he wanted was to do a good job and here was a pretty face to fuck all that up for him. 

For the first month, maybe month and a half, everything hummed along fine. He concentrated hard on their backbreaking dwarf training, memorized the hell out of his lines and finally unpacked his suitcase about halfway into the fourth week. He admired Aidan from afar but didn’t engage in conversation with him terribly often – not that Richard was being rude, necessarily, but Aidan was practically glued to the hip of Rob, their Fíli. If he squinted, Richard thought he could see something resembling romantic entanglement, but he couldn’t be sure, and it was none of his business anyway.

Then Rob left the cast rather unexpectedly and suddenly Richard had a new shadow in the form of Aidan Turner. He was never far from Richard’s side, not saying much, not doing much, he was just _there_. Sometimes he would brush their hands together, or throw an arm casually across Richard’s shoulders while they were standing and listening to instructions, but it all seemed so nonchalant that Richard had no idea what to make of it. Maybe Aidan was just a touchy-feely person. It didn’t ring any alarm bells with Richard, and he quite enjoyed the attention, so he let Aidan’s light shine on him as brightly as he wanted. Looking back, he should have seen it as a huge fucking red flag.

Apparently some of the others _were_ alarmed, because one morning when Richard allowed himself to openly admire Aidan’s attractive profile as the younger man was talking to Dean (Rob’s replacement – short, blonde and pretty as hell), Graham said to him in a low voice, ‘I wouldn’t bother, mate. He’s a heartbreaker, that one. Not worth your time.’

‘What do you mean?’ Richard asked, turning to face Graham. Graham’s expression was grave.

‘Why do you think Rob left in such a hurry? Shattered, he was. Aidan’s got a pretty face but his heart is solid stone.’

Richard didn’t respond to that. Surely that was just set gossip, he wasn’t going to get involved. Besides, he didn’t _want_ to ask Aidan to keep to himself – not that he could anyway, because that would require confronting Aidan about his behavior in the first place.

But Aidan kept getting _closer_. He all but sat on Richard’s lap at breakfast. Once, Richard thought he felt a hand on his knee, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He followed Richard to his trailer at the end of the day just to bid him goodnight, flash that knee-weakening grin and disappear into the night. It was so gradual and so careful that the escalation barely registered with Richard. If he had to guess, he’d say that Aidan wanted him, but Richard _didn’t_ guess, never, because in the past he’d always been wrong.

That time, he was devastatingly right.

After a fortnight of flirtation Aidan boldly invited himself into Richard’s trailer after their nightly walk. He’d gone back to his own trailer at first, leaving Richard uncomfortably disappointed for the umpteenth time, only to return half an hour later with two bottles of cabernet sauvignon and a smile so optimistic Richard had to avert his eyes. ‘One for you, one for me,’ he said. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

‘For what?’ Richard blurted before he could get a hold on his tongue. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, you’ll scare him away,_ his internal monologue chastised.

Aidan ignored him, shouldering past Richard to the kitchenette. ‘Where do you keep your – never mind, found them!’

Richard wanted to _know_ but he let the subject drop because Aidan was draped all over his tiny sofa – two seater would be a gross exaggeration – with a full glass in each hand, and he said, ‘Please, Rich,’ in the way that had all the assistants on the set catering to his every whim. 

They talked about previous jobs, life back home, how fantastic their co-stars were, everything but what the hell Aidan was _really_ doing there that night. Every glass loosened Richard’s muscles so much that he felt he was liquid on the sofa, and his brain wasn’t functioning as it normally would (if Aidan didn’t say that he wanted him, he didn’t feel that way at all, he couldn’t guess these things, he was so shit at this, the disappointment at being wrong would crush him, Jesus Aidan smelled good), so when he was nearing the end of the bottle he said, ‘What are you really –‘

And for the first time in his entire relationship history Richard’s guess was right, because Aidan’s kiss was calm and calculated and, in retrospect, cold as fuck. Richard didn’t have it in him to question it, he pulled Aidan onto his lap and accepted as many kisses as Aidan was willing to give him, and when Aidan unbuttoned his jeans, his moan was the only one that fills the room.

‘I want – ‘ his throat was so dry, so very dry, and his chest was tight with hope. He tried again. ‘I want – ‘

‘ _Fuck me_ ,’ Aidan hissed and Richard, temporarily unable to mentally analyze how unbalanced the whole situation was, unable to question why they were doing this or what it was supposed to mean, stood up, wobbled, grabbed Aidan’s arm and yanked him into the bedroom. The sex wasn’t the best, they were too drunk, but Aidan’s youth and the sheer fact that Richard couldn’t believe how lucky and how right he was, made up for it. Afterwards, Richard said, going against every fibre of his being, ‘I really don’t want this to just be a one time thing.’.

Aidan put a finger to his lips and whispered, ‘Nobody can know.’ Richard nodded, accepting without complaint, because a clandestine relationship with Aidan was preferable to nothing at all. Later, Richard would note how Aidan didn’t confirm one way or the other if that one night was intended to turn into many – just that it was to remain covert.

And it was so easy to hide. Nobody commented on their frequent physical contact or their coming to the studio at the same time and leaving together, because their trailers were so close that it made for a convenient excuse. It was difficult, not being able to kiss Aidan in company, but it was made up for by hasty blowjobs in dressing rooms and the chance to fuck a beautiful young Irishman through the mattress every night. Richard reasoned that the secrecy was in the best interests of his career and gave he and Aidan the time to work out wherever ‘this’ (whatever it was supposed to be) was going. 

Except they never did. There was never the clarification that Richard wanted so desperately, nor did he have the courage to ask for it. Richard guessed that they were officially together, against his better judgment. He reasoned that it was because of their industry that made getting close to someone such a challenge, that Aidan was as nervous as he was, that it wouldn’t stay that way forever. But Richard couldn’t help it – he fell and he fell hard. 

Their relationship did progress, in a manner of speaking. Aidan revealed more and more about his life before _The Hobbit_ , he shared potentially career-ruining secrets with Richard, said how special Richard was and how much he valued what they had together. The sex continued to be phenomenal – Aidan was insatiable and Richard had no trouble keeping up. The only problem was, Richard could count the number of times he said ‘I love you’ to Aidan on one hand, and the times Aidan said it back on one _finger_.

Early on, Richard figured Aidan simply wasn’t one of those people who loved easily or lightly, despite him declaring his love several times a day for food, drink, breaks in filming or their co-stars. Richard waited and waited for him to say it, but it never came until he broke and – very uncharacteristically – confronted Aidan about it, which he absolutely hated doing. When Aidan did say those three words the aforementioned one time they sounded forced and broken.

Richard would forever berate himself for that mistake because after he prodded Aidan into saying what most people said too freely and easily, everything changed. Aidan became distant and then absent, touching Richard less and less in public, arriving at the studio before him and leaving later, until finally a whole week passed without Richard hearing a word from him. It was as gradual and as painfully drawn-out as Aidan’s courtship had been. He was aching to talk and work through it, he didn’t want to have been the one to fuck things up between them, he was willing to be the confrontational party if it meant that he didn’t lose Aidan, but by the time he made up his mind to do anything it was too late.

Another week later (and what would have been four months together for an otherwise normal couple) he noticed Aidan’s mannerisms towards Dean were changing. Dean and his dimples and his Goddamned likeable, easygoing nature were now the subject of Aidan’s wandering hands and intoxicating accent. Richard recognized the beginning of the end when he had the misfortune to overhear Aidan inviting himself into Dean’s trailer, booze in hand and grin turned up to eleven. When he heard Aidan say, ‘Come on, it’s the least I can do,’ Richard just about ground his teeth into dust and kicked the side of his trailer out of sheer anger. He _guessed_ that they were over, just like he guessed that they were together in the first place. 

He went directly to Graham, said ‘Pub, now,’ without elaborating, and Graham understood. That night Richard drank more than he probably had in his entire life, and it still wasn’t enough to numb what he was feeling. If anything, the pain was only magnified.

Dean rebuffing Aidan’s charm might have been karma or it might have been plain bad luck; Richard couldn’t bring himself to care either way. And when Aidan came back to him, red-eyed and overflowing with apologies, Richard found no joy or satisfaction in refusing to let Aidan back into his heart. He would not be fooled twice. It was less revenge and more self-preservation.

Aidan begged, pleaded, cajoled, even tried to threaten, but Richard didn’t - couldn’t – wouldn’t - change his mind. He knew he had his shortcomings – his submission by lack of confrontation with his partners being the most significant – but he also knew he was worth more than accepting the crumbs of an over-pretty Irishman with the emotional intelligence of a tapeworm. All he said, with icy detachment, was that he was no longer interested in what Aidan had to offer, and that he was worth more than Aidan could ever afford. He didn’t elaborate. Sometimes it was better to let people draw their own conclusions.


	2. Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for spamming the RPF page. Tally ho!

Dean wasn’t sure when he’d become so irresistible to the brokenhearted but it was a curse that had followed him around for most of his life. Things would happen and fall apart, friends would come to him begging for him to put the pieces back together, and somewhere between saying all the right things and sealing the cracks, they would fall for him. It was flattering the first couple of times; ego boosting, even. But after a while it became tiresome because, through Fate being a nasty bitch, he never felt the same way.

It wasn’t that he thought himself high-and-mighty or that he considered the people who fell for him damaged goods. It was that he thought he was doing his duty as a friend and they turned it around by wanting more, by taking his good nature and twisting it into something that it wasn’t. It should have made him bitter and cynical. Fortunately for his friends, for strangers at the pub, and for the world, those two words weren’t in Dean’s vocabulary.

All that was calming down now with age – most of his friends were either married or had divorced some years previous – so when he received the call that he was to be _The Hobbit_ ’s new Fíli, he was certain that the next 18 or so months would be uncomplicated. He was acquainted with some of the other actors but not so much that they knew him as the go-to guy for a shoulder to cry on. Further, many of them were married or in serious, stable relationships of their own – there were only a couple of possible loose cannons, and Dean had no intention of revealing his unwanted second job as an Agony friggin’ Aunt.

One of them – Richard – piqued his interest significantly. It was clichéd to say so but he was tall, dark and handsome, and Dean couldn’t get the man out of his head. For one moment when they first met Dean thought he might’ve had a chance to start from the ground up, not from a smoking pile of destruction the way he was used to. 

It was pointless because his on-screen brother, Aidan, was never far from Richard’s side, making any attempt Dean planned to make at asking his new infatuation out for a drink pointless. Aidan was affectionate with everyone, Dean included, but he was more so with Richard in a way that the two of them probably thought was subtle. Dean thought that the hints at their intimate involvement stuck out like dogs’ balls and couldn’t believe that none of the rest of the cast ever commented on it. The one person who appeared to see what Dean did – and didn’t care for it at all – was Graham, who eyed Aidan with the same distaste that most people gave to insects in the kitchen.

He plucked up the courage to ask about it about three weeks in. ‘So Richard and Aidan,’ he began awkwardly, speaking to Graham in low tones so nobody else would overhear. ‘Are they - ?’ He waved his right hand in a circle, hoping that Graham would get the picture.

‘I believe so,’ Graham muttered. ‘And I don’t like it.’

‘Was Richard…yours?’

Graham laughed at that. ‘Not at all, lad, nothing of the sort. Richard is my friend. I just don’t trust Aidan not to hurt him.’

‘Why not?’ Dean asked without thinking.

Graham looked at him pointedly. ‘Would you?’

No, Dean wouldn’t, but there was nothing he could do about it. Richard was Aidan’s, whatever meant, and he respectfully kept his distance. It was a strange romance to an observer. Obviously they wanted to keep it quiet (for personal or professional reasons, who knew) but it was as if there was an ongoing power struggle between them. Dean half wanted to ask Richard if he was okay, if there was anything he could do, but going by past experience was afraid of what that could entail. It didn’t concern him anyway. It was really in his best interests to get over his infatuation before it became problematic. 

So Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it when Aidan’s overly friendly touches became notably more frequent towards him and less so for Richard. He was thoroughly confused because that wasn’t normally how a relationship came to an end – there was either amicable discussion or a plane crash of a disaster, there was never any middle ground. Because of this Dean did not seek out or encourage the attention Aidan was so determined to lavish on him, but neither did tell Aidan that he wasn’t interested.

But he should have because it made the night when Aidan appeared at his trailer door, beer in hand, all the more awkward. Aidan was ridiculously good looking and charismatic and had that stupid accent that everybody loved and basically possessed every desirable quality that he should want in a partner – and Dean didn’t want anything to do with him.

‘It’s the least I can do,’ Aidan said, and what the hell was that supposed to mean? He invited the other man in anyway – Aidan was his friend, after all – and leaned against the sink while Aidan made himself comfortable on the sofa, unable to think of anything to say. Aidan did enough talking for the both of them, nattering on about filming and how grateful he was to work with such fantastic people, and then he was leaning right into Dean’s bubble and trying to stick his tongue down Dean’s throat. Dean was small but strong and the push away from him that Aidan was on the receiving end of nearly had him on his arse.

‘What the hell is your problem?’ Dean yelled, scrubbing Aidan’s kiss from his mouth. ‘I thought you were with Richard!’

‘I was,’ Aidan said with an uncaring shrug. ‘It was fun. We are no longer together.’

His cold objectiveness bothered Dean enormously. Richard, with all his broody intensity, didn’t seem like the type of person to love lightly and Aidan was behaving as if he barely mattered in the grand scheme of things. It bothered Dean because he registered Richard as worthy of so much more from the moment they met, and he would’ve had the chance to do something about it but for Aidan getting in the way. He wanted to ask Aidan if Richard even knew that they were over because from the expression on Richard’s face (when he wasn’t Thorin) Dean gathered that something was very much amiss. 

But what would be the point in that? Dean thanked Aidan for the drinks, said that he was terribly sorry (he wasn’t) but that he wasn’t buying what Aidan was selling, and sent him on his way. He had an inkling that Aidan wasn’t quite as offended as he made out to be but shrugged off the feeling and concentrated on his tall, dark, handsome and hurting co-star.

For the first time in his life Dean was tempted to go to Richard and try to help him forget the sorrow because he _wanted_ to, not because he had no choice, but Richard was nowhere to be found. He showed up to work every day and played Thorin exquisitely but he didn’t say much to Aidan and there was a definite brittle shell that surrounded his softly spoken, intense exterior. It was the kind of pain that simmered below the surface, the kind of pain that ran deeper than anyone could see. It was the kind of pain that Dean didn’t know how to heal. 

So he didn’t try. He kept an eye on Richard from afar, purely to make sure he was going to be okay, and got on with his life. He was absolutely delighted when, after asking Richard out for a drink several months later (utterly innocently) the older man accepted immediately.

‘I didn’t think you’d want to come,’ Dean confessed on the walk to their local. Richard laughed in that luxurious, deep, delicious voice of his that haunted several of Dean’s fantasies.

‘I need to get out more,’ he said, grinning lopsidedly. ‘I’m getting a bit of a reputation as a stick-in-the-mud.’

Dean told him that was bullshit and presented him with a drink – wine, since he’d once heard Richard telling James that he didn’t drink beer. Somebody in the bar recognised Dean from the _Almighty_ cast and kept sending drinks their way (not that he was complaining) and it wasn’t long before he was well past the point of being able to speak without slurring or walk without knocking things over, Richard even less so.

‘I had to assume it was over, you know,’ Richard said morosely. Dean could only guess that he was talking about Aidan. ‘We never had that talk. Aidan didn’t talk. He refused to. He was beautiful and amazing in the sack but that’s the extent of his good qualities.’

Dean squeezed Richard’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. That’s really shit, Rich. He should have been man enough to tell you straight. You’re worth a lot more than that, you know. Don’t let him ruin you forever.’

‘I’m trying, honestly, I am. It’s just hard. It’s probably my fault. We never had the conversation to classify us as a couple, so why should there have been one to determine the termination of a relationship that never seemed to exist?’

‘Richard.’ Dean touched the back of the other man’s neck and smiled gently. ‘Aidan is a moron for not seeing how lucky he was to have had you. You are amazing. Don’t ever think you deserve less than the world.’

It went beyond what Dean usually said to the despondent and romance-weary, and he was a bit pissed so it might’ve been the vodka talking, but Dean meant it all the same and it did the trick of cheering Richard up. They drank until the bar closed and they had to clutch each other’s arms so they didn’t fall over on the walk back to their trailers. 

Dean was afraid that he’d fallen back into the trap of being a personal therapist but Richard was quite low-maintenance, checking in with him only at mealtimes and not sending tearful, incoherent texts to Dean in the idle of the night as so many had before him. He wasn’t even asking for reassurance that crawling back to Aidan would be a bad idea. He was just…being a friend.

Dean didn’t hesitate to say yes when Richard asked him over for dinner another month later. Over wine and crappy commercial radio Richard explained his issues with communicating and how much Dean had helped him see that there was hope. Dean waved it off bashfully. He’d heard it all before and was hyper-conscious of the fact that he really wanted Richard to bend him over the table, so he was equally conscious of the fact that he’d do himself a disservice by reading more into the situation than was really there. 

Then Richard said, ‘ _You_ were the hope,’ and he didn’t look the slightest bit sleazy; his wide blue eyes were frozen open and scared to death with the relevelation. When Dean didn’t reply he backpedaled rapidly, apologizing for overstepping the line and offering to leave. Dean grabbed him by the collar and pulled Richard down to kiss him before he could move.

‘Don’t you fucking dare walk out that door,’ he breathed against Richard’s lips. He craned his neck for a second kiss and Richard – well, he picked Dean up by his arse and sat him on the table, thrusting his tongue into Dean’s mouth like he’s been waiting forever for the chance.

Dean _doesn’t_ get bent over the table but they do take their party to the bedroom, where they undress each other with shaky hands and lie on the bed and Richard makes him come with his hands and his voice. He’s thrilled to see Richard is still there when they wake up the following morning and is compelled – against the remaining reasonable part of his brain screaming that he could be making a mistake – to tell Richard that he’s wanted this for a long time, and he hopes that they can make a real go of it.

‘So do I,’ Richard said with a smile more genuine than Dean had seen for months. It was the first time that Dean had fixed someone who he actually wanted to keep, possibly through the planets aligning or Fate getting its shit together, and he’d never felt luckier. Aidan didn’t know what he was missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I may be serious for a moment: RPF is taking over my life and I can’t say I have any complaints about that. Before _The Hobbit_ came out I hadn’t written anything for about five years and it was frustrating as hell, so I’m incredibly happy to be comfortably immersed in fandom again. Also you guys are all so nice and supportive and talented that I never want to leave. *blows kisses*
> 
> Psst, there is porn on the way… I have one planned for the 26th of this month. (That’s my birthday, just quietly. ;D)

**Author's Note:**

> I had some feels to purge. This was the result. Sorry, Richard. ☹
> 
> Fuck I'm depressed now. Brb, taking to the RPF page to cheer myself up.


End file.
